Of Piano Keys and Memories
by Youkomon
Summary: Roll reminisces how fate made her into Maylu's partner and muses over both her creator and her 'misplaced' ability to dance...MegamanRoll hint.


Okay…this was a strange idea I came up with. Everybody hears about Megaman's origin a lot of time but what about the other navis? How did they end up where they are now? I decided to try this for Roll and I'm fairly satisfied with the results…

Mute: Nope, don't own Megaman though who wouldn't want their own customised net navi?

Me: This fic should include a Megaman/Roll hint somewhere in here…if you can't find it then I've obviously gone wrong somewhere…

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

She's playing again. Such a lovely harmonious sound floats into my ears, a graceful lullaby of piano keys that soothes me to tranquillity. And she doesn't just plays on those keys either. She works hard to achieve perfection and define the word music. I envy her sometimes for the way she can weave magic under her fingers. I can do no such thing. Whoever heard of a navi playing the piano? But I can dance.

I'm tempted to launch myself into one now, believe me. The music is calling for me top become one with it in body as well as soul. Yet I stay still until the music drifts away as Maylu finishes her daily piano practise.

There it is again. That old sadness. Just as Maylu creates music, I was created for Maylu…and that means I have as much love for the piano as she. So that's the connection me and Maylu share is it? The piano? Or just music in general? What of Tory and Iceman? Dex and Gutsman? Yai and Glyde? What are the connections that hold them together? I'm pretty sure every operator and customised net navi has something that bonds them together. It's easy in the case of Megaman and Lan. You'll have to be blind not to notice the affection they have for each other, the deep friendship they share that links them to each other's core. An unbreakable relationship in a manner of speaking…I once asked him you know. Megaman. I asked him about what it was like to have such a strong bond with your operator. He stared at me…and then said I didn't need to ask. I wonder what he meant by that?

Humph. I cat my thoughts backwards recalling things I haven't looked at for ages. When was the first time I met Maylu? A couple of years ago at least. She was young. I was unwilling at first, reluctant to part with my creator. I was scared of how this kid would treat me…then I saw this pink-haired little girl for the first time, saw her kind eyes. And felt my worries melt away. Somehow…I instinctively knew I could trust her. That is, if you believe a computer program is capable of having impulses like that. Even so I still felt jiggery, felt that thousands of invisible eyes were regarding me hostility, waiting for me to slip up. Then that little kid sat down by the piano and began to play…and those prying eyes were immediately banished from my…I believe you humans call it an imagination. At any rate I finally felt at home as those easy scales crashed through my regrets, creating a feeling of security inside.

I'm getting ahead of myself aren't I? I suppose I should really tell you how it all began. How I came into being. I don't understand the full story myself, it's like there are gaps in my memory. Like someone's removed pieces of a complicated jigsaw puzzle without my consent. But I'll try my best to explain. Trouble is, giving it all I've got never seems to be good enough. My best efforts are cast in the shadows compared to Protoman's and Megaman's.

The first thing I can ever remember is drifting in and out of consciousness to the sound of…yes; you've guessed it…a piano. I can't tell you how long I stayed in the dark…unable to see, touch, move in a physical form…yet I was aware of myself. Aware enough to realise I had no name or purpose, sense enough to feel lonely and wait patiently for the light to shine. In all honesty the darkness was suffocating. You breathe it in and it cloaks your thoughts until you are nothing but a part of the darkness yourself. A pile of negative energy. I would have gone insane if it wasn't for the occasional jangle of piano keys under soft fingers of the human kind enough to chase the numbness of the shadows away. That sound, never constant, was the only company I had and I guess that's where my love for music began. When you are shrouded in darkness unable to do anything except listen, you grow attached to the thing that makes you feel alive…the thing that makes you happy and comforts you in your permanent night sky.

Those jingling keys of ebony and black made me feel I had the right to exist.

One day I felt different. I could feel the mass of data reconfiguring itself into a physical form, a vessel for my spirit if you will. Knowledge drifted into my new head of battle chips, net surfing and thousands of other tasks I would have to put into practise later on. I blinked and the lights were finally turned on. I could see, I could feel, I could touch…it was exhilarating. Yet I still felt incomplete until I heard a baritone voice.

"Why hello there, Roll.exe."

I smiled up to the human who had appeared in an uplink in front of me. I now had an identity I could call my now. This was me. Don't ask me how but I knew the human was the one who had played the piano and helped relieve me of my loneliness.

I learned from him I was currently being held in his personal computer and I was being created for one of his pupils. He was emigrating and was very fond of one of his students and had decided to give her something that she could always remember her old piano tutor by. Something unforgettable. That something was me.

I tried not to focus on this piece of information too much deciding to find out more about my creator. The first thing I found out was that he wasn't very open. All he would reveal was his name and then his mouth snapped shut like a trap. I only spent two weeks with him before I was shipped off to Maylu, downloaded into a PET without a proper goodbye.

Our time together was short, he would often play Choppin or Mozart, perhaps even the haunting Swan Lake. At first I would just listen, eyes closed, relishing the sound. Then I grew more daring and began to dance, slowly waltzing before speeding up into the flashing of limbs and artistic movements. He would always stop abruptly without warning and watch me. By then I was so lost in my own gestures that I barely noticed the absence of music and would continue to dance. Eventually I would spin to a halt, embarrassed. We would never speak to each other, though on more than one occasion I caught a glimpse of yearning in his eyes.

"You're just like her…the way you move…"

That was the only time he broke the silence. He never did it again.

Gradually he allowed me more freedom and then finally let me surf the net privately for a single hour without his interference. I wasted no time and began to search for records containing his name, whizzing through databases, scanning through libraries. I could not shake off the memory of when he had crushed the golden silence with his strange words. I craved some sort of answer.

I found it. In the form of a wedding certificate. It stated he had got married to a lady named Fiona seven years ago. I dredged up a photo as well. Of a glossy, sparkling young woman, auburn locks running round her face and liquid eyes that shone with the same blues and greens you find in the sea. I should have backed off then. But I didn't. I resumed my search until I found a more morbid certificate. A death certificate. One that announced the death of Fiona only two months after the wedding. I didn't read any more. What was the point? She was dead and knowing what caused it wouldn't bring her back to the land of the living.

I had a suspicion running through me and against my better judgement acted accordingly. I checked my files locating the ones that contained special programming inputted manually by my creator. I found instructions for certain dances installed there, how to move, correct timing etc. And I also found a video clip. Curiously I played it. I came face to face with a laughing female human in a ballet dress. She danced in rolling motions, perfectly controlled and executed. She paused and bowed, her gleaming white smile seeming to twinkle for me alone. Her eyes were the colours of the ocean.

I returned to my creator's computer, disheartened, my data feeling heavy as though I had been downloading a massive collection of MP3's into my programs. I vowed never to let the name Fiona pass my lips.

In that final week we were together, I danced for my creator more often and better than I had ever done before. Yet when I encountered Maylu's face for the first time I promised I would never dance again. Dancing was a part of Fiona, none of the dances had ever been my moves in the first place. Wouldn't it have been insulting her memory to continue?

There was also something inside me that rebelled again the thought of using those special programs. I wanted to be my own person, figuratively speaking of course. I was not Fiona. I was Roll.exe.

But I never deleted them.

My creator had wanted to let his wife's memory live on and he saw me as a way to do it. In a way that made his gift to Maylu even more special. He put a bit of his heart into me in the form of those programs and that video clip. Guess he wasn't kidding when he said he was fond of her, huh?

I wonder…does that make Fiona a part of me? Does she live on via me? I have a precious, precious memory of her inside of me, one that wasn't mine admit ally, but still…

I never knew her but I can see the similarities between us. In order to be a dancer you have to listen to the music. You have to love it, let it breathe through you. And we both listen and love. Love…yes she was loved and used her dancing to express that. And we are both young and female. Would it be wrong to use her dances to let my emotions show? Would she mind?

I've never needed to dance before…since…well, you know…but I can feel her inside me urging me to try again. If I dance I'll let her live again through me. Maybe I've been hiding her for too long in my files. This way I can keep her memory alive…perhaps this is what my creator was aiming for all along…crafty human…

Can I blame him? No.

The hardest thing to do is let go of the past…why harbour it when you can let it live? Isn't it better to be alive than smothered in darkness? I know what my answer is.

"Roll…would you like to dance?"

I take a good look into the questioning olive-green eyes. I see hope and truth in them.

I place my hand in his and his whole face lights up. He looks like I've made his day, his expression mirroring that of one I've seen before on someone's else's face…someone who would play the piano on a rainy day and see a pink navi twirling in front of him. A navi to chase his storm clouds away.

"Sure Megaman…let's dance…"


End file.
